


Photos and Memories

by Tara1993



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Romance, photos are taken, some fluff ensues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 20:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tara1993/pseuds/Tara1993
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at Crane and Mills through the years. Photos create memories and memories last a lifetime, even when your fighting a war against evil. Quick little Ichabbie one shot, spanning 5 of the 7 years of tribulation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Photos and Memories

It had been another eventful day of demon hunting for Crane and Mills. So much so that Abbie wasn’t at all in the mood to make the drive up to Crane’s cabin and drop him off.   
“You okay to just crash on my couch for the night?” She asked. 

He didn’t really answer, just kind of grunted in response which she took for a yes.   
He’d only ever been to her place once or twice, but he was familiar with where things were and what he could and couldn’t touch.

“I am gonna shower quick. You know where the blankets are, help yourself.” She said, kicking off her shoes at the door. 

“Do you mind if I peruse you kitchen?” He asked. 

“Peruse away, just make sure whatever you find is in date before you eat it.” She called as she made her way down the hallway to the bathroom. 

Abbie had taught Crane all about expiration dates when he had a bit of an incident with some spoiled milk. He shuddered a bit at the memory of it, not anything he’d like to repeat. 

He started with tea, something he knew how to make using modern instruments. He filled the kettle with water and put it on the stove, careful not to turn the heat up to far. Then he went about finding some food.   
Abbie’s cupboards weren’t exactly stocked but he was able to find some bread and she did have sliced meat and cheese in the refrigerator so he settled on making them sandwiches.   
He knew Abbie liked something called Mayonnaise on hers so he pulled that bottle out, along with the ketchup. Abbie didn’t like it on her sandwiches but he liked it on just about anything. He finished their dinner and had tea waiting when Abbie finally walked back into the room. 

“Did you make dinner?” She asked as she joined him on the sofa. 

“Well it’s not exactly what I would call a dinner but its food so it’ll do.” He said, sliding a plate over to her. 

“Hey, we’re eating it in the evening so it’s dinner, that’s how it works.” She said. They smiled at each other.

Abbie shouldn’t have been surprised that he knew exactly what she wanted on her sandwich, he did have photographic memory, he probably knew how she took her coffee too. 

They ate in silence and he helped her clean up and put everything away before they settled back on the sofa again.   
Abbie started mindlessly flipping through TV channels and Crane started picking up anything he could get his hands on, trying to figure out what it all was. 

She watched him out of the corner of her eye, some of her favorite moments with him were when he’d discover something new, his eyes would light up and he’d take everything in. He was like a big kid when it came to that kind of stuff. Eventually he got a hold of her digital camera and started pressing buttons. He jumped a bit when it turned on. 

“What’s this?” He asked, watching the small LCD screen on the back intently as he moved the camera about. 

“It’s a digital camera.” She said, muting the TV and turning to face him.   
“Here,” She took the camera from his hand and pointed it at herself. “Watch right here.” She tapped the screen which was still facing him. She waved at him behind the lens, then made a goofy face and snapped a picture. His eyes widened when her face appeared on the little screen, frozen with her eyes squinted and tongue out. 

“How in the world does it do that?” He asked, gently prying the camera from her hands and staring at the screen. 

“Honestly I have no idea, its all mirrors and science; I can look it up for you if you want to know.” She said, watching him closely as he turned the thing over and over in his hands again. 

“And that image is in there forever?” He asked, looking over at her. 

“Yep, until I get rid of it.” She said. 

“You can take it out?” He looked at the bottom of the camera as if he expected there to be a place to pull the picture out from. 

“With this kind of camera you just delete it off the memory card.” She took the camera back from him again.   
“What I mean is,” She popped the side of the camera open and pulled out the SD card. “This card is where all the pictures are stored.” She stuck the card back in, turned the camera on and brought up the picture of her. “And if I decide I don’t like this picture.” She turned a bit so he could see what she was doing. “I just push this button and it gets rid of it.” She pressed delete and he watched as little black squares filled the screen and the picture disappeared. 

“Now, there are other kinds of cameras, before this kind of technology was invented, where it’ll print the picture right when you take it. Hold on a sec, let me see.” 

She got off the sofa and headed over to the closet then started rooting around in some boxes.   
He didn’t understand most of what she’d said but he was interested to research this digital camera and see how it worked. He heard a bang and Abbie mumbled a few curses that made him laugh and shake his head. 

“Ah, here it is.” She stood up and walked over; joining him on the sofa again she sat a metal box in his hand. 

“And this is?” 

“This is a Polaroid camera, you take a picture and it prints it out immediately.”   
She held it up in front of her, and pointed it at him. He heard a snap and saw a flash and then the device made a strange noise and spit out a small piece of paper. 

Abbie took it and waved it about a bit then looked at it and laughed. 

“Here.” She handed it to him and he looked down to see himself. 

“Amazing.” He took it out of her hands and accidently snapped the shutter. The camera printed out another picture that Abbie snatched. She watched it develop and laughed at the expression on his face, accidental photos were the best, especially of a man who had no idea what he was doing. 

He pointed the device at her and snapped the shutter again and grabbed the photo as it was spit out. He held it in his hands reverently and watched as the picture took shape. Abbie hadn’t been looking at him, she was glancing down at the picture she held, a smile on her face, her hair falling just so around her cheeks. 

“You have to be careful where you point it.” She said, reaching for the photo he held. 

“No it’s fine, I know.” He tucked the photo in the inside pocket of his jacket and handed the camera back to her. 

“I’ll leave it out, in case you wanna play around with it. It’s kind of old so be careful but your more than welcome to it, I don’t use it anymore.” She set it down on the coffee table in front of them. 

“I am gonna head to bed, you alright, need anything?” She asked, standing up from the sofa and stretching her arms over her head.   
He caught a flash of skin and averted his gaze but his eyes betrayed him and moved back to the line of dark skin above the waistband of her trousers. 

“No, I am. I am quite alright.” He moved his gaze up to her eyes and smiled. 

“Alright, well the shower is open if you want it, you know where my room is, shout if you need me.” She said.

“Goodnight Miss. Mills.” 

“Night Crane.” She called. 

He listened to her footsteps walk down the hall and the sound of her door close. When he was sure he was alone he pulled the photo back out from his pocket and looked at it. He should have been worried about how his heart started to beat a bit faster at the frozen image of her. How he wanted to reach out and run his finger along the outline of her face. He felt a pang of regret as Katrina’s face swam in front of his eyes but he shook his head and let the image of Abbie replace it. 

He’d been fighting so long for Katrina, he just wasn’t sure he was up for it anymore. It was a horrible thought to have, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. He just felt so at odds with himself lately. Half of him wanted to continue to fight, to get Katrina back, to save his wife. Then there was the half of him that was much more interested in walking down the hall and asking Abbie if he could join her in her bed.   
He tucked the photo away again, not wanting to think on the matter anymore. 

\-------------------------

Through the next few months Crane started spending more time at Abbie’s place. Mostly they’d just sit and argue about TV and modern things. He’d continue to play around with the Polaroid she’d left on the coffee table. 

One night the both of them got a bit drunk celebrating their latest victory against Moloch and the Polaroid got quite a work out. Abbie snatched it from Crane’s hands and snapped the shutter at him, letting the photos fall out of the camera and onto the floor as he walked after her, trying to take it back. 

“You can be lucky I got new film for this, it was hard to find but,” She almost tripped over a chair but she just giggled and continued on. “But I figured you’d wanna play around with it so I got plenty.” She snapped a few more then let him take it back. He snapped one right in her face as payback and she laughed at him. 

They spent the next hour annoying each other with the camera. Eventually Crane fell asleep, leaning back in the old wing-back chair that sat next to the sofa. Abbie watched him for a few minutes, all the tension left his face when he slept. His mouth was parted slightly and she could hear his even breaths. She picked up the camera from the floor, lined his frame up in the viewfinder and snapped. 

“Gotcha.” She whispered as she took the photo from the camera and watched it develop in her hands. She smiled at Crane’s face, his stupid old jacket that he refused to get rid of. Then the humor washed away and she got a wave of seriousness. She wasn't falling for this man, was she? She glanced from the picture to where he sat in the chair. Her heart hurt a bit but she smiled. God maybe she was falling for him, or maybe she just needed sleep.   
She slipped the photo in her back pocket, grabbed a blanket off the back of the sofa and draped it over Cranes lanky form.

“Goodnight.” She whispered, letting her hand linger maybe just a little too long against his cheek.   
The next morning she woke up, the events of last night a bit foggy but the photo was still in her back pocket and so she decided to keep it. 

\-----------------------------------------

They both kept their pictures, Crane kept the one of Abbie in his coat pocket and Abbie kept hers in different places, sometimes in the zippered pocket of her jacket, sometimes in her wallet, but it was always with her. 

Neither could say why they kept them, it was just a constant thing. When they felt down or alone and needed a reminder that someone was there with them, they’d pull the photos out and smile at the memories.   
The photos were with them through everything, through demons and battles and horsemen, through a particularly grueling week where Abbie had been kidnapped by another of Moloch’s demons.

She’d been there two days before she remembered she had the photo. Her hands were cuffed in front of her, if she could just twist her body the right way. She pulled the photo from her pocket, unfolded it and took in the image of a sleeping Crane. The photo was two years old now, creased and slightly faded but it still held the same impact. Her heart swelled and she almost felt like crying. She had a moment of doubt, would she ever get out of here, would she see him again? 

Four days later Crane and Irving busted through the doors. Irving ran right to her, checking to make sure she was okay. Crane stood back, his face the picture of concern. She kept her eyes on him and the second Irving uncuffed her the two of them were drawn to each other, almost magnetically. She wasn't sure who was holding who tighter but she knew she had never been so happy to see him. She buried her face against his chest and breathed in his scent. 

“Are you alright?” He asked his voice cracking as he held her closer.

“I am fine, I’ll be fine.” 

“I should have gotten here sooner.” He said. 

“Its fine Ichabod, you got here, that’s all that matters.” She hadn't realized she’d called him by his first name but he had. He took her face in his hands and closed his eyes as he rested his forehead against her own.   
“Abbie.”   
She expected him to say something else but he didn't so she just wrapped her arms around him again and held on tight. 

\-------------------------------------

Two years later they lost Katrina. Abbie had never seen Crane so devastated. It was no fault of his own, she’d fallen in battle. They’d had their reunion though; two months earlier they’d finally been able to free her from purgatory for good. Crane had had two months with her here, she knew it wasn't enough but at least it was something.   
She stayed with him for as long as she could. For the hour he sat in the forest, long after Katrina had vanished. She took him home and watched helplessly as he almost sleepwalked to his bedroom, slammed the door and locked her out.   
She sat on the sofa and pulled the photo of him out, glancing at it again, not knowing that only a room away he was doing the same thing with his photo of her. He needed something to hold onto and now she was all that was left. 

It was weeks before anything else eventful happened. As though both her world and the world where the demons resided were in mourning.   
It rained almost every day, and when it wasn't raining it was cloudy and miserable.   
Abbie had taken up permanent residence at the cabin, only to make sure Crane was taking care of himself. He wouldn't come out of his room for much, just to eat and use the bathroom and bathe. By the 10th day she was getting a little worried about him. 

“Crane, can I come in?” She asked, standing outside his bedroom door. She didn't expect him to answer but eventually the door swung open and he let her in. 

“How are you doing?” She asked, watching him move back into his room and take a seat on the bed. 

“I am not sure honestly.” He said quietly. She came over and sat next to him, and gently took his hands in her own. 

“I know how you must be feeling.” She began. 

“I don’t.” He said with a bitter laugh.

“Katrina would want me to move on, she wouldn't want me to grieve like this, but, I suppose I am conflicted.” He said. 

“What about?” Her hands still rested in his, he slowly started to run his thumb across her knuckles. 

“You’re all I have left now Abbie, I just don’t want to lose you too.” He said honestly, keeping his gaze fixed on their hands. 

“Who said you were gonna lose me?” She asked, willing him to look at her. 

“We have two years left of this war, at least according to scripture, and look how many people we’ve lost. I don’t want to count you among them.” He said. 

“Five years of this and I am still here Crane, you know I don’t give up easy. And yeah we’ve lost a lot of people, a lot of good people but you and I, we’re strong, we’ve survived, we’re going to survive I believe that.” She said. 

“You seem so sure.” 

“I have to be sure, otherwise I’d never get out of bed, I’d just hide all day. Yeah I am scared to death that every day might be the day I bite it but I can’t think that way.” Finally he turned his eyes to hers. 

“Remember what you told me when we first met. How I was a capital ‘W’ Witness and that our fates were entwined. We’re in this together you and I Crane, we’re gonna fight till the end I know it.” 

He held her gaze but didn't say anything, he wasn't sure how to respond, she was right though, he knew that. He stared into her brown eyes and his brain started waging a war with his heart, one he already knew he’d lost years ago. 

He let go of her hands and reached out to pull her closer to him. Abbie knew, she knew exactly what his brain was thinking, so when he stopped just shy of her lips she didn't push, she let him think. He had to come to this on his own she wasn't going to force anything and spoil it.   
Eventually his eyes met hers again and he realized she was waiting, waiting to see what he’d do.   
He wrapped his hand gently around the back of her neck and pulled her the rest of the way into his embrace, his lips pushing against hers with just the perfect amount of pressure. She sighed and leaned into him, moving her body so she was straddling his lap instead of awkwardly next to him.   
When he pulled back to breath she watched him carefully. He didn't seem regretful or upset; in fact he kept his eyes trained solely on her. 

“Are you sure about this?” She whispered, she needed to know, there was no going back if this was about to happen. 

“I made my decision years ago Abigail, I've never been more sure of anything.” 

Her eyes welled with tears at that statement but he pulled her back in to kiss her and she forgot all about it. 

It was almost a sensory overload. The feel of his lips and hips pressed against hers. His warm scent enveloping her, the way he tasted when she kissed down the line of his throat. Just the sight of him before her, above her, all of it just the littlest bit to much, but just enough.   
He was slow and methodical and she swore he’d kissed every inch of her skin. He whispered sweetly against her ear and kissed her with such a passion she wondered why in the world they’d ever waited this long. He ran his hands down the length of her body, tracing her curves, her body broke out in goose bumps but his touch felt like fire on her skin.   
She wondered briefly if this was what it felt like to be worshiped, to have every inch of your body cared for and loved and tuned by his hand just so that she swore she must be emitting some kind of heavenly tune because that’s how she felt.   
Eventually she couldn't bear the waiting anymore, and while she hated to beg she’d do it if she had to. Luckily it only took a glance for him to realize what she needed. 

She hadn't had many lovers in her lifetime, three if she felt inclined to count the one time with the jerk who abandoned her at the pharmacy, most of the time she counted him out. But none had ever felt like this. 

She knew if she said the things she was thinking aloud she’d sound crazy. This felt perfect, this felt like heaven. She’d never fit so perfectly with anyone but she curved against his body just so, like pieces of a puzzle finally put together.   
She could hear her own breathing in her ears, becoming shallower and more erratic. He kissed her deeply, one hand in her hair. And she sucked gently on his bottom lip, just enough to make him groan which in turn only made her kiss him again.   
And she knew it was the most cliché thing in the world but when they came together she swore she saw stars. 

He pulled her close afterwards; she rested her head on his chest and traced the scar that had brought him to her. She acted impulsively and kissed it gently, then ran her tongue along it. He watched her, a strange expression written on his face as he ran a hand through her hair.   
“Would you laugh at me if I said I’d wanted to do that ever since you took your shirt off to get stung by a scorpion for me?” She asked, looking up at him. 

He cupped her face in his hand and leaned down to kiss her again.   
“When you picked the lock on the cabin door.” He said simply.

“What?” 

“That’s when I decided, that one day this would happen.” He said, gesturing to their current state of undress. 

“Seriously?” She said, with a bit of a laugh, he nodded. 

“You just thought it was sexy that I could pick locks.” She said, rolling her eyes at him, “You’re really into bad girls huh Crane?” His eyes clouded over a bit and she regretted the words instantly.

“Sorry, I shouldn't have,” 

“No it’s okay.” He interrupted her. “Katrina will hold a place in my heart always, but she was my past. You are my future Abigail.” He kissed her again and she smiled. 

She lay her head back down on his chest, her eyes traveling over the room, eventually they landed on the table next to the bed and her brows furrowed in confusion. 

“What in the world?” She sat up and reached across him to grab an old Polaroid photo of herself. She was glancing down at something in her hands and smiling.

“I took it, that first day you showed me the camera. It was so beautiful I couldn't bring myself to throw it away so I kept it.” He explained, running his fingers along her back. 

She looked up at him, then leaned over the side of the bed and pulled her jacket up from where she’d tossed it on the floor. She unzipped the pocket and pulled out a photo of her own and handed it to him. 

“When we got drunk celebrating after we took down that stupid hell hound demon Moloch threw at us.” She said. “You fell asleep before I did and you looked so peaceful, I just took the picture, I kept it all this time.” 

He looked down at her and his heart swelled a little.   
“You mean the world to me Grace Abigail Mills.” He said quietly.

“And you mean the world to me Ichabod Crane.” She kissed him lovingly and lay her head back down on his chest, the beat of his heart soothing her. 

He picked up her hand and twined his fingers through her own, marveling at how perfectly they fit together.   
With his other hand he took the faded old pictures and sat them next to each other on the small bedside table, his fingers ghosting across Abbie’s face in the picture. He turned his gaze back on the real Abbie in his arms; he kissed the top of her head gently and gave their entwined hands a squeeze, then watched as she slowly fell asleep in his embrace.


End file.
